The Saturday Sessions
by SoleilLumiere
Summary: Letters
1. Chapter 1

**Notes:**

 _The Saturday Sessions AKA: Writing Ping Pong... CorbyinOz2 and I love to give each other TAG related writing challenges to spur those creative juices. Each challenge has a different theme and a different set of parameters. Corby recently posted "Red" as part one of our Saturday Sessions. Actually, at the time she posted it, it the latest challenge and only for Corby as I was busy writing a chapter of another story (a challenge itself, but I digress)._

 _Our very first challenge some months ago was "Letters". We had four days to write our individual first parts, send them to each other on the Saturday afternoon at a prearranged time, and then had two hours to read and write a response which needed to be emailed to each other by the time our Skype video call started at a second prearranged time. The final responses were read simultaneously on Skype._

 _Our challenges are enormously fun, especially seeing the different approaches we both take to a challenge. "Letters" is a great example of this._

 _We hope you enjoy reading our Saturday Sessions as much as we enjoy writing them._

* * *

Letters Part 1: Dear John (by Soleil)

Dear John,

Ha! I'm pretty sure that's what Grandma used to call those emails she'd twitter on about. You know, the ones armed forces personnel stationed in remote war zones got from their partners when said partner wanted to break up.

So yeah I'm in the air force and your name is John.

But this isn't a break up email, or even a break up letter for that matter.

Actually I don't have access to a computer to write an email, or even pen and paper.

Paper. What a rare commodity. The only paper I've ever seen has either been in museums, Grandma's old books or Virgil's sketchpads or the antique sheet music that Mom left to him.

So no, not an email or even a letter.

What do you call an email … letter ...whatever… composed entirely in your head - my head - never to see the light of day, never to be delivered?

You'll never know what I'm writing here.

What I'm thinking here?

I'm thinking it to you, so I think that's like writing. Just without actually putting it down somewhere. Or delivering it.

Actually I'm kinda glad you won't ever see this. Things have been kinda … messy. Unreal. But real. Oh so hellishly real.

I'd do anything to protect you and the kids, make sure you never know of the hell that the end of my life has become.

Ugh. Yeah. Bit melodramatic.

God, how did it ever come to this?

Oh yeah. Getting shot down over Bereznik will kinda lead a guy to end up here.

Or dead.

Not sure which is the best option actually.

You remember my wingman and her flight officer? I think Alexa and Jennie got the better end of the deal. They died when their fighter got hit. Exploded. Never even knew what happened.

Tomaz - next best. Don't think I told you. We'd been on the ground evading the Bereznikians (Berezniki's? Never knew what to call them) for about 36 hours. Well Tomaz was. Evading them as best he could while carrying me with my two broken legs. Then, yeah. Ambush. He got shot in the head. All over red rover.

Except for me.

So I think Alexa, Jennie and Tomaz all got the better end of the deal.

Yeah, yeah. I know. Not what you expect from me, the eternally in control, cool under pressure, future USAF leadership material Scott Tracy.

Great White Hope I think Gordy used to call me.

It's just, I don't know. I've been here for days. Weeks. Months? I've lost track. I don't have anything to mark the wall to keep track.

Not that that would make a difference.

I can't see a thing.

It's constantly dark in here. Damp and cold and dark. The only light is when they come to throw what passes as food or water at me. Not that it's regular enough to gauge how many days have passed.

Actually there is another time when there's light.

I don't like light any more.

I'll never live that down. Big brother scared of the light. Kinda like when we were kids after Mom's death. Gordy and Alan both scared of the dark. Thinking the monsters were going to come and get them or us and Dad, just like they thought that snow monsters got Mom and Grandpa. You and me spent so many nights reassuring them that monsters aren't real and not to be scared of the dark.

Never through that it was the light I needed to be scared of.

Or that monsters were real. And human.

And that they came with the light, not the dark.

You know, the pain of two broken legs is the least agonizing thing I've experienced in the past few days.

Weeks?

I miss you guys.

I wish you guys were here so I'm not alone.

Footsteps.

Light under the door.

Scott Tracy scared of the light. How messed up is that?

Never want any of you to understand this fear.

John?

Don't remember coming back to the room.

Cave.

Hell hole.

Whatever.

Don't remember where I stopped the letter before I was interrupted.

Rudely interrupted. But you just can't tell the hired help that in these parts.

Touchy buggers.

They kick you in the ribs if you get mouthy with them.

What's that John? If I do something stupid?

When have I ever done something stupid?

Don't answer that.

My breathing sounds funny. Raspy.

So, John. Where was I? It's all a bit blurry.

Rambling, I think you'd say.

Anyway.

There was a point to this.

What was my point?

I feel so distant from you and the kids. There are miles between us.

Continents, oceans, worlds, eternal space.

Weeks? Months?

I wonder if you are back from your first trip to the moon base yet? Al will be so excited. You won't be able to shut him up. It will be non-stop questions for hours. Days. Weeks.

God. All those times growing up when I'd wish I was an only child for an afternoon, where I wanted you all to stay at the library, the pool, piano practice for just an hour longer. Just to have some peace and quiet so I could be me and not someone's big brother.

I'd give anything to have that time back again.

Never told you this before. Scott Tracy as you know him doesn't exist without John Tracy. Without Virgil. The kids. My world has surrounded the lot of you for so long, sometimes I don't know who I am without you anymore.

I wouldn't want it any other way.

Wonder what you are all doing right now?

Gordy and Al are probably planning on breaking out of school and storming Bereznik all by themselves to rescue me.

Virgil? Virge will be trying to convince Dad to let him fly Stateside so he can speak personally to Congress about getting me released. If Congress fails him, he'll have his back up plan: fly the jet to Bereznik to start his own search and rescue mission.

You're probably trying to reason with the younger two not to stage an escape from school, and trying convince Virgil and Dad to actually get some sleep.

Don't forget to get some sleep yourself Johnny. Need you to be healthy for when I get back in order to keep the kids in line.

If I get back.

Do you even realise I'm still alive?

Fuck. Footsteps again. That can't be more than an hour after the last time.

I think?

What do you think?

Maybe you think I'm dead. Like Alexa and Jennie and Tomaz.

Footsteps. The glow under the door.

Never want any of you to understand this fear.

Crawling skin, dry mouth. Heartbeat louder than the footsteps now. Chest…can't breath.

Sudden glaring light, shouting, rough hands.

Fuck. This is what fear is. I can taste its bitterness.

Gotta protect you kids from this.

Pain. Ribs, chest, scalding hot pin points all over. Backhand across the face. Five, Six, Seven…. Crawling, away. Boot on broken bones. Fire exploding up my legs.

I can feel the darkness. It's just there, just out of my reach.

Johnny, does it make me a coward to want the darkness?

I don't know any longer…

Johnny.

That you?

What are you doing here?

Thirsty. So thirsty.

I can feel the sun.

I can't feel anything but pain.

Johnny, I can see our little brothers too.

Or is it my captors? Did I tell you one of them is Al's age? Looks a little like Virgil: dark hair, dark eyes. Has Gordon's laugh.

No, not Gordy's laugh. He wouldn't laugh at someone else pain.

You can't be here. You're all so pale. Too pale.

Blood on your shirt, over their hearts.

No, no you're not here. Everything's messed up.

Everything is so blurry.

No, not real. Feeling hot. But also so cold.

This is not real.

It's all so … I so feel empty.

Johnny, I gotta ask you, tell you.

Lost. Feeling so lost. I can't….not sure how much longer…. can't keep this up.

You need to be the big brother now. I can't do it anymore.

I tried. God I tried to hold it together to get back to you. To see the kids again. Dad.

Numb. So numb.

Virgil will need you to be there. Everyone will think he's okay because he'll try to be there for everyone else, to listen to everyone. He's the emotional bedrock of the family. But he'll take this hard. You gotta pull him out of it, get him to paint the beauty in the world again.

Gordy. He'll act out. It will be all happy oceans and sunlight and dolphins and seals. You'll never see the dark depths of his soul if you don't get him to talk. You and Virge will need to double-team him.

Al? Show him the stars. Make him see the potential of life in the universe again.

Don't cut yourself off from them. Or Dad or Grandma.

Wanted to protect you. Needed to protect all of you from the obscene. From this.

Hope they never find me. Don't want you to see what they did. Like Mom all over again. But worse. So much worse.

Knives, rope, blades, fire, buckets and buckets of icy water. But not to put to the fire. Never to put out the fire.

Broken; so, so broken.

Maybe it's better you make up your own ending. Let me now how you feel about that.

Only you cant, can you?

Because you'll never get this letter.

So, so hot. But so cold. Icy.

Johnny, the light. It's coming again.

You gotta run. Take the kids and run. Hide.

Footsteps, closer, closer.

Can't show you anymore. You gotta do it yourself.

Love you little brother.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes: **

CorbyinOz2's response to Dear John.

* * *

Chapter 2: Letters Part 1: Dear Dad (by CorbyinOz2)

Dear Dad,

Wow. I really fucked up this time, didn't I? You told me not to, so I did. I guess that's been the story of my life, really, and now I don't know if there's going to be much more of it left.

I am legit scared. Really, really scared. It's dark in here and they've been all over me like a dose of the plague since they brought me here. I keep telling myself, 'superficial'. It's superficial stuff, burns and cuts and a couple of breaks, nothing that won't heal. It just feels bad, real bad, but I've done enough training with Virgil to know what's dangerous and what can kinda be fought through.

You'd fight through. There's nothing that stops you. I can't imagine what you'd be thinking, if you were here. Well, sure, you wouldn't be here in the first place. You'd never take the risk, you'd never be that fucking crazy. I don't know if I'll ever see you again, because I don't know what these assholes want with me or even if they're part of the people you were giving me all those not so subtle hints about. I just know I had to try.

I wish you'd talked straight to me. Maybe if you told me that these guys were out there, worse than the war itself, maybe I wouldn't have come?

Or yeah, maybe that's bullshit and I would've been here even faster. It's just – I wanted to do my bit. I know you think that I'm too young, and I've got brothers to protect, but Dad, I had to try and do something. You heard what they did on the Bereznik border, right? Did you hear what we did? Has that got back there yet? It was worth the risk. Because we did it, we made a difference like you're always saying we should. I just chose to do it in a way that wasn't what you had in mind.

I'm writing this in my head. What a laugh, hey? But whenever I go to see you, I write things down first. Because I need to be sure about my points, because you always kinda overwhelm me. You stand up there, so tall and unafraid and certain, and everything in my head turns to mush.

So now I'm writing this in my head because I don't have any other way of straightening out my thoughts. It's getting harder and harder to think, and I've never been this alone in my life – Christ, with our family, you kidding? – and it scares me so bad if I saw anyone I knew right now I think I'd start crying like a little kid.

I can imagine what you'd be doing if you were here. You would be on your feet, you'd be demanding to see someone and you'd just be overwhelming them with the power of You. You wouldn't be – yeah, shit, I'm crying. You wouldn't be crying, and you wouldn't be scared, and you wouldn't be thinking about home and missing it so bad it hurts more than what they're doing. You'd hear them coming down the corridor and you'd be all, "About time! Kept me waiting, jerks!" You'd take their worst and say, "That the best you got?"

You wouldn't be scared of the darkness. You wouldn't be scared when the light shows under the door and you know what's coming next.

Well, I'm not doing that, Dad. I want the cavalry and I want my brothers and I want you real bad.

These guys? They're monsters.

You've never been scared of monsters. When I was a kid and scared of what lived under the bed, you gave me a flashlight and said have a look. You could face anything. I wish I told you I never did look. I wish I told you I kept that flashlight under my pillow and every night said a stupid charm I made up to keep the monster at bay. Wish I told you so many things.

I wish you told me things too. I know you've got scars. Where did you get them? Did you feel as bad as I do right now when they happened? Huh. Of course not. You're the original 'It's just a scratch' guy, aren't you? You've never known what it is to feel broken. And that's what I am, and I don't know what's going to be left of me after. I don't want you to see that. I don't want you to know. Or maybe I do? Maybe some honesty at the end. Yeah, you had a son, and he wasn't worth much, wasn't too brave or smart or good, and he didn't do what he was told, but he tried to do something big just once.

Well, I'm sorry the kids are gonna be so scared and worried.

Dad? Don't be hard on them. Not everyone's like you. Some of us are flesh and blood.

Ha. Right now, a lot of blood.

We can't all be Scott Carpenter Tracy. But I gotta tell you, I wish you were coming through that door right now.

I miss you, Dad. And I know we don't say it much, or ever, god, not like Gordon and his kids, or Virgil, but – I love you. I'm so sorry.

Your son.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey Virge by Corby**

Hey Virge,

So whops? I guess. Awol. Look seriously it's not as bad that shitgobbler Atkins says. Yes, true, there was damage but also – and this is very important V – all damage was paid for and most importantly, I was in under a psueondym. Psuedonym. Whatever. And cash. Never touched a card even the plantimum. So yay!

AND! Really importantly, it was a goat. Not a donkey. You can't trust donkeys but goats have got your back. Goats are cool. Donkeys are so not that. Not that a lot. Never trust a donkey seriously Virgil oh my god. But goats? Are very, very cool.

Our goat s Bocker. He's greta. He drinks beer, brilliantly I mean the important thing is that it is not just any beer its good beer he wont; even drink crap beer. He drinks imported beer. Heinieken beer and good ossie beer. Heinie beer. Thats interesting.

O fuck I am watching the game vigr eare oyu seeing this because o my god. GO RYOALS!

And the whole thing about the car and the plane and that is not realy that bad. I mean yes it got really interesting for a bit but the plane is OK and I think we should all remember that. And the gota. And the guy with the hat with make America grate part 3 the reckoning again he will be ok. We didn't hurt him we just talked and he is ok. I think the plane was going to galpagos. He'll like it there.

It was kin dof my fault but not all of it a nd I need you to talk to scott becaue he is a bticth. Seriously virge he is always on my ass and its not fair. Its really not fair becaue I try a lot but he doenst ever hear doesn't respect me at all. I get that because hey its me but sometimes I wish eh just would a bit can you tlak to him juts for a bit? And also I got the invite the same day as hte announmenet and im not going but I hope shes very happy. Theres this stuff called eldflower vigr eits good with vodka oh mygod n a glass. And pineapple and cucmber. Bocker drinks it

And that stuff about rogan josh on the curtains its BULLshit what Atkins says just bullshit VIRGil. I wouldn't waste good indian Christ I'm stuck on TI all the time do you think I would waste that? When I got it? Bocker didn't even get any and hes just always hungry virgil all the time its like Alan in animal form.

Anyway if oyu could talk to Scott that would be so good virge because I think hes mad at me and it really isn't my ffautl because there wre ea lot of porple there that I realyy didn't know a lot and some fo them may not even be particly good peoke but hey were fun virge.s

So thanks and I love oyu all.

Im ok and tell gardma that I'll be back next week.

Gorodm

Ps virge if you can can you be here sometime? That would be cool.

Hey Virge by Soleil Lumiere

Virgil! Virge!

Oh man. Where are you? I need you back here like yesterday! The island is gonna erupt. No actually Scott is gonna erupt and take the island and the 'Birds and me and Grandma and Brains with him.

Like its gonna be so huge that Johnny will see it from Five. Captain Taylor will see it from Mars even.

Not sure what Kayo's gonna do. Maybe laugh, maybe join Scott in erupting.

Seriously dude, its like Defcon 4 here. You know that stuff they show on the ancient history channel about Russians and Trump and Reygun (what ever that old actor dude was called) and the Ice War and shit.

Seriously. It's that bad.

Did you see the vid Gordo just sent Scott? Man, I knew Gordo liked to live dangerously and I know you guys keep telling me not to take him as role model but seriously Virge, our brother has a death wish.

I've seen vids of those old sixties dudes on acidwash trips but man, they have nothing on Gordo. There's this plane that he's flying all over the place, like Scott level loops but not as good. Kinda screwy actually. And a donkey, although he keeps calling it a goat. But it's a donkey. Yeah, I know weird or whatever. But he's got this donkey in the cockpit and its drinking god knows what called Heinie or some of that beer swill you all drink. It should be a pig if its drinking swill, like the pigs on the Carter's farm back in Kansas but it's a donkey and Gordo keeps calling it a goat. He's saying the goat plays for the Royals and he didn't get an invite.

What the? Man. This is weird. Like seriously off the scale weird.

And then he's waving the plane goodbye as it takes off without him and the donkey and he's crying into the donkey's neck saying he's been jilted and like what the does that even mean Virge? He's calling out that cots are a bitch. I mean I know we all have really big beds now but what's wrong with cots? We all slept in them when we were little in Kansas, I've seen the photos. You don't think Gordon got locked in one when I was little and it's scarred him?

Now Gordy's raving about asses not respecting him. Isn't an ass the same as a donkey? Why is Gordy worried that a donkey doesn't respect him? Now he's blubbing about cash and asses and her being happy.

Holy shit dude! Do you think the donkey is a female?

Virge! Virge! I need you here. Shit, really Virge! I'm serious dude. Scott just hit Defcon 5.

I don't understand. Why is Grandma laughing?

Also, what's rogan josh and why is Gordon saying he tossed it all over the inside of the cockpit?

Is there even a Defcon 6? Whatever! Scott's just hit it.

VIRGIL! I need you now.

Love you big bro (I know, mush, but Grandma says I need to let people know I love them) but I need you now.

Alan

PS If you don't answer in 5 minutes I'm calling John. That will teach you to ignore me in my moment of need!


End file.
